Metal Flavored Drabbles
by BradenIsMyMonkey
Summary: Collection of drabbles, ficlets, and any oneshots I write that are under 1,000 words. Updates whenever I write something. Rating might got up at one point. Individual warnings, pairings and ratings listed before each work.
1. He Didn't Tell

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: I decided to write 100-200word drabbles to help me with writing, so I plan to just post them all here. They will be posted as I write them. Pretty much I will write whatever comes to my mind.

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Title: He Didn't Tell

Rating: G

Pairing: None

He didn't tell them how much their words hurt him. He didn't tell them how much they made him feel even more empty than he already did.

He just let them rant and didn't tell them anything.

It was his job to make them work. His job to crunch the numbers and fill out the paper work. It was his job to be the bad guy. His job to be the...Robot.

He didn't tell them how much that one little word hurt him.

So, he stayed silent letting them call him that word. His silence and emotionless expression fueling them to call him it more.

In a way by not telling them anything, he became the Robot he desperately didn't want to be.

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So yeah, Reviews are very metal. So do it. Please?


	2. Thanks

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

Title: Thanks

Rating: G

Pairing: None

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There was no knock on the door, no prior warning, no nothing before he slipped into the room. He didn't say a word as he tip toed over to the bed and looked down at the sleeping body who was clutching a teddy bear to his chest.

A smile appeared on his face as he knelt down, resting one arm near the sleeping head.

"Toki," the intruder said as he let his hand brush a stray lock of hair out of the young mans eyes.

The only reply was a soft sigh and a small twitch of his head, but that was just fine. It was easier when no one knew he was there, not even the one he was visiting. He wasn't even suppose to be allowed in.

Leaning forward the stranger whispered, before leaving the room, "Thanks for ca-ca-ca-caring."

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I re-watched Dethzazz and this popped into my mind. Yeah, so reviews are loved but not necessary. Tell me if I made any mistakes.


	3. Blow

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: This is probably not as funny as I think it is. XD Oh well, enjoy. This is also over 200 words, but that's okay... :3 Oh, and lame title is lame?

Title: Blow

Rating: PG-13 to R? I dunno...

Pairing: Nathan/Charles

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"Could you hurry up?"

Charles said nothing as he looked up at Nathan from his spot on the floor.

"Maybe blow faster?"

At this Charles stopped what he was doing and stood up. "Faster?" he said as he glared heated daggers at the front man who was settled at the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, I have, uh, places to be," Nathan replied, leaning back on one hand while the other tapped impatiently on his knee.

"Well, Nathan, if I am doing a poor job and your, ah, impatient why don't you just blow yourself?" Charles asked while fixing his tie trying not to become angry. He was taking time out of his busy day to please Nathan and here he was being berated.

"I can't. I've already tried, remember? Can't really reach, back hurt for a week. So why don't you, you know, get back down there and blow?"

Charles abruptly turned and stormed for the door, stopping only to say, "Finish up. You have a conference in twenty minute."

Nathan scowled, realizing to late that he just pissed off his manager.

"Fine, I'll blow myself," he mumbled, grabbing one foot and brought it as close as he could to his face before trying to blow the wet nail polish dry himself.

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Thanks for reading, even if the only one laughing is me. Haha?


	4. Tired

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: This is for my sister, who wanted a Pickles drabble then said never mind she would write it herself. What a dildo. I wrote one anyway.. I got inspired.

Title: Tired

Rating: G

Pairing: None

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Pickles never got tired of hearing the words of praise coming from his parents. He never tired of hearing them say what an excellent son he was.

Never tired of hearing them say how he was going places in his future, or how he was the best gift from God anyone could have.

He definitely didn't tire of hearing how out of his brother and himself he was the favored child who they were proud of talking about to other parents, while the other was a worthless piece of garbage.

But... in reality Pickles was tired. Tired of drinking and pretending all those praises and loving gazes were directed towards him and not to his brother.

He was tired of siting in his room, drinking his days away, and pretending he was loved and wanted.

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Hopefully it reads sad. Tell me what you thought. :D


	5. He was in Valhalla

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: This just popped into my head, and I couldn't fall asleep until it was written, typed, and posted. Enjoy.

Title: He was in Valhalla

Rating: G

Pairing: Possible implied Toki/Skwisgaar

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Toki didn't know how to explain the feelings he was experiencing. It was like a combination of absolute joy, pure rage, huge guilt, and so much more. Yet, there was one feeling he knew how to explain.

Toki felt like he was in Valhalla.

It was a feeling he never wanted to forget, so he urged his mind to remember what it was like. He tried to hold onto how it felt during the deed. To feel like he was drunk without ever having a drop of alcohol, or feeling high without ever taking one hit. No. He never wanted to forget this.

Sadly, Toki knew it would not last forever. Soon the feeling of absolute nirvana would fade away and it would only be a memory. Sure he could recall how it felt, but it would never feel the same.

What he did with Skwisgaar to bring on this bliss was a one time thing only. He would never be able to do it again, and at that thought Toki frowned. Looking over his shoulder from where he sat on the floor he saw the blonde guitarist laying on his bed and sighed.

He would have liked nothing more in the entire world than to do that with him again... but you only get to kill the fastest guitarist in the world once.

Well, unless he decides to kill himself.

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Hope you enjoyed.


	6. Wanted

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: Just some possible fluff. I'm a fan of Tokiface, whether it is fluff or full on slash. I'm weird, I know, but I love it. XD Not as much as Skwis/Toki though...maybe... I don't know. :P

Title: Wanted

Rating: PG

Character(s)/Pairing: Murderface and Toki.

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Dethkloks bassist slumped down onto the couch in the main room without a sound. No one else was around, which wasn't unusual. Nathan, Skwisgaar, and Pickles were busy in the studio working on some songs for the newest album and had earlier told Murderface that he was banned from the room. Usually this would not have stopped him from entering the studio to try but today he didn't feel like it.

Today, he just didn't want to deal with their malicious rejection.

Sighing, Murderface wondered what it would be like if he was a different person. Someone who was thinner, more handsome, important. Most of all he wondered what it would be like to be wanted by someone. Wanted not because he was rich, or famous but because he was just himself. Just Murderface.

"Murderface?"

Upon hearing his name, said man looked over his shoulder to the young brunet that had come into the room. The two of the locked eyes with each other for a few moments, each with signs of loneliness and need in their eyes. Without saying a word Toki walked around the couch and took a seat next to the bassist.

After a bit, Murderface slung his arm so that it rested on the top of the couch, his hand just barely touching the rhythm guitarists shoulder. In turn Toki shifted so that his head rested on Murderfaces own shoulder. The two just sat their, enjoying each others company and for a time letting themselves indulge into the fantasy that they were both wanted by someone else.

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Hope you enjoyed. I need to start to write more happy stuff .


	7. Hot Tub Prank

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: Here is my lame attempt at humor. Written when I was suppose to be studying for my Western Civ mid term. /bad

Title: Hot Tub Prank

Rating: PG-13

Character(s)/Pairing: Dethklok, CFO

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Toki and Pickles were sitting together on the couch, while the other three lounged in the hot tub, giggling like school girls. Whenever any of the others asked what the hell was so funny they would be answered with even more giggling and nothing else.

"Shtupid dildosh. Probably took shome drug or shomething," Murderface said, Nathan and Skwisgaar mumbling their agreement.

After ten minutes of non-stop giggling Nathan had had enough.

"That's it, you two either shut up or I'm going to kick both of your asses!"

"Dood, we ain't afraid of no smurf!"

"Yeah! Wes not afraids of nos smoof!"

"Smurf, dood."

"That ams what I said Pickle. Smoof."

"Enough! You guys are pissin me off now!"

Nathan stood up and went to get out when Skwisgaar suddenly stopped him by asking;

"Nathans, why ams you halves blues?"

"Cause you guys are Smurfs!" Pickles yelled as he and Toki burst into laughter.

"You...guysh?"

Slowly, Murderface and Skwisgaar stood up and looked down. Just like Nathan they were blue from anywhere the water had come into contact with their skin.

At once the three half blue band members sprung out of the hot tub and lunged at their drummer and rhythm guitarist. Neither Toki nor Pickles were able to escape them, both to busy laughing to even think about running away.

Later that day when Charles walked into the room for the band meeting he was met with three scowling faces and two very blue ones.

"I, ah... I don't even want to know."

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Fail attempt at humor is fail.

I thought it was funny, but when I wrote it I was running on four hours of sleep and had been studying for a mid term. So, it probably isn't that funny, oh well. 33


	8. Just Drunk Enough

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: I haven't written any drabbles in a while, been busy writing my one shot that I had posted. This is just something I wrote while in my Western Civilization class. More hopefully to come, but I am also busy writing up another Metalocalypse story I have in my mind.

Title: Just Drunk Enough

Rating: PG-13

Character(s)/Pairing: Murderface

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Murderface threw his half-empty beer can at the television in his private room. Watching the brown liquid drip down the screen, he frowned and immediately grabbed another can from the six-pack he brought with him earlier.

Popping open the can he took a large gulp, downing a good portion of the drink. The commercials ended on the television and soon the movie started up again but this time Murderface didn't pay attention to it. It was just another Civil War movie, one that he had already seen multiple times.

The movie wasn't what had Murderface upset, though. It was his band mates. Always flaunting around how much they got laid and how much girls wanted them. All of them, even Toki! Rubbing it in his face, making him feel like crap. Making him feel uglier and fatter then he already knew he was.

Finishing off his current can, he grabbed the last one of the six-pack. Two huge gulps and the can was thrown empty on the ground to mingle with the others. Sitting on the edge of the bed Murderface spied his trusty dagger on the nightstand.

Grabbing it he turned it around in his hands watching the reflections from the television dance across the shiny blade. Carefully, Murderface positioned the tip of the blade to his wrist, slowly adding pressure, and watched as his blood started to pool from the cut of the sharp blade.

Nobody would ever find him attractive, or useful, or want him like they want his band mates...or so he kept telling himself.

'Maybe I schould juscht kill myshelf."

Murderface was just sober enough to know he shouldn't do it but just drunk enough to not give a damn anymore.

Angsty, but what can ya do? Reviews are nice but not needed.


	9. Conspiracy

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: I posted this on livejournal but forgot to post it here. XD Enjoy!

Title: Conspiracy

Rating: PG

Character(s)/Pairing: Dethklok

XXX

Pickles couldn't believe it. All four of them were ganging up on him, and he knew it! Each of them secretly giving each other glances, snickering under their breaths. Always quieting or looking away whenever Pickles would look their way.

He wasn't paranoid, he didn't even take any drugs that could make him paranoid. The drummer knew a conspiracy when he saw one and sitting around a table with his fellow band mates he not only saw one, but he smelled one.

"Okay, I plays this Reverses card, back to you Skwisgaar."

"Plus de fours, makes it yellows. You gots to take fours Pickle."

"Come ahn! I got half the deck already and still no feckin' yellow! Finally, go Murderface."

"Jeezy, calm down Picklesh. Go Nathan."

"Reverse, back to you."

"Plush two, shorry."

"No you ain't."

"Poor Pickle, always getting more cards."

"Yeah, poor Pickle. Oh Unos! Wowee."

Pickles narrowed his eyes as once again he was left with half the deck of cards and left to watch one of the others win. They had been playing for hours and he hadn't won once!

He wasn't paranoid. They were ganging up on him. No way was he this bad and no way was someone like Toki, who had the most wins even though he just learned how to play that night, that good. Yet, here he was. Sitting there as he watched Toki throw down his final card, winning the round.

Pickles couldn't take anymore of this blasphemy. They were definitely picking on the little guy here.

"You guys are a bunch of douche-bags!"

Throwing down his hand, Pickles got up and stormed out of the room completely missing the knowing looks and quiet snickers.

Pickles quickly returned to the table, this time dragging Charles behind him, ready to get back into the game.

An hour later and Charles couldn't believe it. All five of his boys were ganging up on him.

XXX

Yeah. I was playing Uno with my mom and brother tonight, while listening to Dethklok cause my mom loves the show too, and this sorta happened. My brother and I kept winning while my mom kept ending up with half the deck and then claiming we were conspiring against her. We weren't. Well, not at first. :3

Hope you enjoyed.


	10. Untitled

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: I don't know why, but my mind keeps telling me that Charles is spelled Charlse. D;

Title: Untitled (Couldn't think of one)

Rating: PG-13? Refs to violence.

Character(s)/Pairing: Charles

Charles felt sorry for them. Well, he felt sorry enough to drop both of his fists to his side. There were four of them, each of them big, dumb, and looking for a fight. They figured he was an easy target, a nerdy, glasses wearing weakling. But Charles was anything but weak, having spent all of his current life practicing martial arts and fencing.

So when he was approached from behind by four hulking figures he didn't even bat an eye.

He didn't wait for them to finish their threats or taunting. Charles had work to do and no time to waste. By the time they realized the short nerdy guy wasn't as weak as they had thought, two of them were already unconscious on the ground. The third one was quickly taken out by a blow to the legs and a swift, forceful (but not to forceful) chop to the throat.

That left Charles with one more, the physically largest of the four. Now was when the fun truly began.

Yet, as quickly as it had started it had ended. He didn't want to kill the guy, just hurt him. Charles wiped his bloody knuckles on the oaf's shirt, it was his blood after all, and fixed his tie. The only sounds in the area were the pained breathing of the unconscious males and Charles felt it was best to leave now before anyone decided to show up.

Not that he was worried. He knew none of them would tell anyone he beat them up; it was embarrassing on their part. Besides, who would honestly believe them if they said anything?

Smirking, Charles picked up his discarded bag and continued walking home. He had Advance Calculus homework to finish.


	11. Waiting

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: Just something that came to mind in my Sociology of Family class today. Enjoy.

Title: Waiting

Rating: PG-13

Character(s)/Pairing: Toki

The waiting was unbearable. Sitting all alone in a room surrounded by white, Toki felt like he couldn't breathe. White walls, white bed, white floors, white everything! He didn't care the reasons why it was all white, it didn't make him feel any better, or any different.

The white-ness of the room did nothing to help him relax while he waited for the doctor to return with his results. The results that could change everything he knew.

How long had he been waiting? It seemed like forever and a half, just sitting in the room waiting for the door to open. Waiting for the good news, or even the bad news, hell any news.

It was Charles who had told Toki to go to the doctors, just in case. He told Toki it could run in the family and that he could have it and not even realize it yet. Wide blue eyes stared forward at the white door. Waiting.

Waiting…

His breath caught in his throat as he saw the door knob turn and time seemed to slow down at that point. In walked the doctor, manila folder in hand, and face set in an expression of remorse and regret.

One look at him and Toki knew. Like his father, he was going to die. Now it was only a matter of waiting.


	12. Selfish

Title: Selfish

Rating: R (Mainly for subject matter)

Character(s)/Pairing: Pickles, Charles

Warning: Mentions of drug, alcohol, and child abuse, cutting, and character death.

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

AN: For my sister who wanted an angsty Pickles story. She also wanted some Charles/Pickles, but there isn't really a set pairing in this one. More angst. Hope you like it, not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, but I enjoyed writing it.

xxx

Pickles took another gulp of his liquor of choice for the night. Then another and another. And when the bottle slipped from his grasp to fall to the ground empty, he picked up another bottle and took another gulp.

Rehab didn't work. It helped sober him for a while, but soon after he was right back to where he was before, if not worse. The pain was always worse when he was sober.

Alcohol was slowly being less and less effective. It took more and more each time to lessen the sting, to quell the pain he felt. Pickles needed something stronger, something that lasted longer than a few hours.

So Pickles turned to drugs. He smoked, snorted, and injected anything and everything. It didn't matter to him, as long as the pain went away for a time he was content.

But his body quickly built up a tolerance for the drugs, just as it always had. Each hit, each time he shot up he needed more and more. Blast all consequence, damn all re-repercussions. He needed to feel the numbness no matter how dangerous it was.

When the drugs were no longer enough, Pickles locked himself in his room and put a blade to his wrists. It wasn't the first time he watched his own blood bead before spilling over, and it wouldn't be the last.

Pickles could recall the first time he ever did something that harmed his body. He remembered it like it was yesterday. No matter how much crap he put into his body to try and forget he remembered the pain of his upbringing.

He could remember the betrayal he felt when his brother blamed him for starting the garage fire, but he also remembered the soothing burn in his throat and stomach from his first beer.

He remembered the floating, free feeling he felt after his first hit of weed, helping him forget the pain he felt when his own mother forgot his birthday, again, so she could take his brother to another amusement park without him.

Most of all he remembered the relief, the release, the soothing caress of the blade the first time he cut himself after his father laid a hand on him for the first time.

Now, sitting in his bathroom watching the cuts slowly stop bleeding, he felt the pain start to leave again. Pickles never cut deep enough to cause serious harm, just enough for the pain to ease.

Soon enough, though, shallow cuts weren't enough anymore and he started cutting deeper and deeper. He became sloppy and more desperate, forgetting to lock the bathroom door, or just lifting his wrist band to quickly cut himself during band practice when no one was looking.

Then one night he cut to deep. Blood poured freely from his abused wrists until his head felt lighter than air and he saw stars. He knew death was coming for him, but he wasn't scared. In fact he wanted it. He wanted to die, it was the only way for the pain to finally be all gone. He was happy he was bleeding out.

Sitting on the ground, back to the tub, arms bleeding on his lap, Pickles closed his eyes for what he hoped would be the last time.

But he opened them again, and there sitting next to his hospital bed was Charles. Pickles just listened, not saying a word or looking up, as Charles yelled at him. Asking what he thought he was going to accomplish, what he was thinking.

When Charles asked Pickles how he could be so selfish, Pickles finally looked up at his manger, noting his unkempt appearance and watering red-rimmed eyes and said, "How can you be so selfish to keep me alive?"

Charles choked back a sob as he watched Pickles lean forward and reach inside Charles' jacket for the gun he knew he always kept with him.

Pickles brought the gun out, feeling the weight in his hands. It felt heavy yet welcoming, like it was the answer to all his prayers. Which it was. It really was.

He raised the gun to his temple, green eyes meeting hazel as he smiled, a real smile, for the first time in a very long time knowing he wouldn't be hurting anymore.

The sound of a gun shot reverberated off the walls of Mordhaus. A second shot could be heard a few moments later.

xxx

Hoped you liked it sis. Thanks for beta-ing my multi-chapter story. *happyface*


	13. Russian Roulette

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

Title: Russian Roulette

Rating: PG

Character(s)/Pairing: Nathan/Charles

AN: Just something short that came to mind while listening to my Sociology teacher lecture. :D

xxx

"Nervous?"

Charles took the gun from Nathan's hand, spun the cartridge and pointed it at his head. "Me? Nervous? You should know better Nathan. I work with guns all the time."

The trigger was pulled but nothing happened. Charles could feel the sweat roll down his back as he watched Nathan ready the gun and pull the trigger at his own head.

"Round three." Nathan smirked as he watched Charles prepare the gun.

"You know, I'll miss you when I win. It'll be quiet when you're gone."

"Heh, that's if I don't win first. Which I will."

The two sat in silence, passing the gun between them while sipping brandy and drinking beer. After over twenty more rounds of empty compartments, Charles started to get annoyed.

"Nathan, did you even put a bullet into the gun?" he asked, thinking maybe the front man just forgot that part. Which honestly wouldn't surprise him.

Nathan finished spinning the cartridge and glared down at the gun. "I'm pretty sure I did."

Charles sighed, reaching for the gun. When he tried to remove it from Nathan's hand Nathan's finger got caught in the trigger, accidently firing the gun.

There was no loud bang or scream, just a ping and a very startled manager.

Charles sat back in his chair leaving Nathan clutching the gun and took off his glasses to remove the foam nerf bullet from one of the lenses. "I'm counting that as a win for myself."

"NO! You got hit, I win!" Nathan slammed the plastic nerf gun on the table and glared at Charles who glared right back.

"You pulled the trigger. I win."

The two glared at each other for a few tense minutes before Nathan slumped back in his chair and mumbled 'fine.'

"Good. Your bags are already packed. Have fun telling the others about having to go do the 'Children of Metal' tour. I'll see you when you return."

Nathan reluctantly got up from his seat and made his way towards the exit of the office. Before he left he turned back to Charles, who was looking quite smug as he pulled out some paperwork, and pointed one large finger at him.

"I'll get you in those heels one of these days. Just you wait."

Charles smirked as he heard the door slam shut behind Nathan.

"In your dreams, Explosion."


	14. Safe Place

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

Title: Safe Place

Rating: PG

Character(s)/Pairing: Toki

AN: Written awhile ago, but never posted it.

xxx

The last thing Toki remembered before everything went black was looking at Murderface then turning to see his parents in the studio. After that, there was nothing. He was in his own happy place, far away from his parents and away from the pain he remembered they caused him.

Toki was not aware of the concerned stares he got from his band mates, or the almost silent reassurances when no one else was around to hear. He didn't notice when he was gently led places or force fed food so that he wouldn't starve. All he was aware of was that real life was no longer safe and until it was he was not going to leave his safe haven.

Their eyes, oh yes Toki could feel them. Feel their cold gaze upon him even in his safe place. He could feel their gaze long after they left to go back to Norway. Because he still felt it, he knew it still wasn't safe so he staid in his sanctuary.

Eventually, Toki did open his eyes, so to speak, back into the real world. He was in the living area sitting with the rest of the band. No one said anything as Toki got up and started to walk around on his own, but it felt as if a weight had been lifted from the room.

Every time it took longer and longer to wake up and leave his safe place. Looking at each of his band mates Toki smiled knowing that even if they denied it they would always be there when he came back, no matter how long it took.

xxx

Oh, and if anyone still cares or even remembers I have started (finally) on the next chapter for the Good Nights Stories story. So, yeah.


	15. Bad Week

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse nor do I make any profit from anything here.

Title: Bad Week

Rating: PG-13

Character(s)/Pairing: Charles, Rockso, Toki, mentions of the other members

AN: Pre-Season 4, Why we have yet to see Rockso.

Oh, and a quick shout-out to mouch30 who reviewed every chapter (and I think every Metalocalypse story I have posted). It really made me happy when I checked my email and saw it flooded with review alerts. I enjoyed reading them all. *hugs*

xxx

Charles had been having a very bad day. No, make that a very bad week. If it wasn't the never ending piles of paperwork it was the always ringing phones. Not to mention the accident in the Gear lobby that took out over a hundred workers or the exploding soccer balls during the Sweden vs. Denmark football game that only harmed the Danish players (which Skwisgaar may or may not have anything to do with.)

And all that was on a Monday. The rest of the week, unsurprisingly, went downhill from there.

By Friday all Charles wanted to do was grab a large slice of pie from the kitchen, curl up on his couch and relax. The only thing between him relaxing was one final document to look over and sign off on.

Charles made his way to his office as quickly as he could. He ignored the loud bickering between Toki and Skwisgaar coming from the studio. He tuned out Pickles and Murderfaces loud and drunken singing from the hot tub. He even looked past Nathan and his newest girlfriend, Trindle something or whatever, making out in the middle of the hallway. Nothing was going to stop him from finishing that document and ending the horrible week he had been having.

All his hope was dashed when he opened his office door.

"Ka-ka-ka YEAH!"

To his credit, Charles didn't even so much as twitch his eye. There in only a police style hat and a neon blue thong that matched his hair was Rockso sprawled out on his desk fiddling with a riding crop.

"Someone told Doctor Rockso that you've been a b-b-bad boy." Charles watched as the clown dragged the crop up his leg and then snap it on his thigh.

At that exact moment all the stress and grievances from the past week came flooding back and Charles closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath and counting to ten, he opened his eyes and locked them with the clowns. A small sadistic smile crept onto his face that made Rockso start to laugh nervously.

It wasn't a large slice of mouth watering cherry pie, but it was the next best thing to relaxing after the week from hell.

xxx

Charles stared out the large window in his office that overlooked the large expanse of land Mordhaus was built on.

"Charlies?"

"Yes Toki?" Charles didn't turn around to look at the youngest band member, his gaze focused on something else going on outside.

"Haves you seen Rockso? We was supposed to pals around last nights, but he never showed up!"

Hazel eyes quickly looked at the reflection of Toki in the window. He noted the worried look and fidgeting hands. Charles smiled but quickly wiped it from his face before finally turning around to face Toki.

"Unfortunately I was informed this morning that Rockso was in a riding accident last night. Apparently he fell off his horse and landed onto a riding crop that went right through his chest." Charles left out the fact that he 'fell' onto the crop over thirty times.

"Oh wowee. Ams he goings to be okays?"

Charles turned back towards the window, his gaze makings its way to the group of Gears filling up a suspiciously body sized hole in the yard.

"No Toki. I don't think he will be okay any time soon."


	16. Untitled 2

Title: Untitled (Can't think of one haha)

Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse and I am not making a profit from this.

Characters: Toki and Murderface

Rating: PG

Summary: Just something that happens after Prankklok

AN: Wrote this right after I first saw Prankklok, posted it over on the dethklok livejournal comm but forgot to post it here. Better late than never lol

This just came to me while I was falling asleep and wouldn't let me sleep until I wrote it. I tried to keep it one tense but it's after 3am so who knows how that worked out.

XxX

Toki crawled into bed tired, in pain, and unsatisfied. The prank on Murderface was a huge failure and caused Skwisgaar and himself more pain than it was worth. They didn't even get to bask in the fact that Murderface was beat as well. To top it all off the ships carrying their records sank, Nathan destroyed the Master Record, Pickles refused to come out of his room, and Charles was off doing whatever he does in the lower levels of Mordhaus.

Worst of all, he never even got to go to Splash a Roonie Water Park.

The only positive thing about all this was Toki got to spend more time with Skwisgaar. For that he was grateful. He had been feeling neglected and under appreciated for the longest time. Especially after being forgotten and left behind all those times. Toki was just glad the whole club attire fiasco was finally forgiven, or forgotten. Either way, they were no longer mad at him and Skwisgaar had finally started letting him hang out with him again.

That's why when he was told he won two tickets for himself and one friend to the water park he was so excited. Then when Skwisgaar agreed to be his 'plus one' he was beyond ecstatic.

Toki sniffled as he tried to get into a position that didn't hurt his sore, bruised body. His eyes started to water as he mentally berated himself for falling for the pranks. For not realizing how obvious they were and how much of an idiot he was to fall for them not once, not twice, but three times!

A soft knock on his door startled him from his self-loathing. "Who ams there?"

"It'sh me." Toki glared at the door, willing it to burst into flames and then ignite Murderface along with it. When nothing happened he turned so his back was to the door, hissing slightly due to his bruised sides.

Toki could hear his door open and close and felt his bed dip when Murderface sat down on it. The room became silent again as neither of them said a word or even looked at each other.

"Were you means to Toki because you weren'ts inviteds to my clubs?" It was barely a whisper but in the silence of the small room it was louder than ever.

"No. I wasch jusht being a dick."

"Oh." Toki shifted again, whimpering slightly when he accidentally put pressure on a bruised area.

"I, uh, wasch planning on giving you theshe when I got back from my trip, but now ish a good time, I figure."

Toki remained silent, back still turned from the bassist as he heard Murderface place something on his nightstand and leave the room. For the longest time he just laid there, contemplating on whether or not he should even bother to see what Murderface left him or leave it there until later.

Curiosity peaked Toki carefully sat up and turned his bedside lamp on. There sitting on his nightstand was a plain white envelope. Toki picked it up then dumped the contents out onto his lap.

A small smile crept onto his face as he dropped the envelope and picked up two One-Day passes to Splash a Roonie Water Park.


End file.
